DISCLAIMER: Not mine, unfortunately.
Thanks to CAH, JastaElf, XoLikeWoahxO, lauren hedgehog, MDarKspIrIt, Silivren Tinu, n and Seagent Pepper for reviewing the last chapter. You guys are the best!
Many thanks to my wonderful beta, Calenlass, for advice, suggestions and patience with questions.
Onward. *g*
Chapter 2: The Arrow
Thranduil ran faster than he had for centuries. He still did not know what had happened, but the younger Elf's tone and manner had left him in no doubt that there was every need for haste.
He followed Rochendilwen around the palace to one of the side gates into the stronghold. It was open, and there were four Elves waiting there – two novice warriors and two captains from the Home Guard. One of the captains pulled Rochendilwen aside and ordered her home in the company of an older elleth hovering nearby.
"What is it?" the King asked apprehensively.
"You will see, aran nîn. Feredir, Saeldur, you are to let nobody leave the stronghold no matter what. One of us will return in a few minutes."
The novices nodded and stood aside to let the King and captains pass. Six Elves from the Royal Guard fell in beside them as they made their way outside the stronghold. Thranduil hid his surprise; normally his guards did not follow him around in the vicinity of their home.
He glanced questioningly at the captains, who shook their heads in unison. It would have been funny if their expressions had not been so serious.
In a few minutes, they reached a clearing that was normally used to hold feasts and celebrations. There was a ring of archers surrounding it now, and he could just make out the slender figure of Ellaurë, commander of the Home Guard, standing in the centre. She was staring at something on the ground with a mixture of pity and horror.
The warriors parted to make room for Thranduil. He stepped through the ranks, nodding his acknowledgement –
And stopped short.
Thranduil was a seasoned warrior. He had fought more battles than he could count; he had fought on the slopes of Orodruin, but the sight before him made his stomach turn.
An elleth lay in the middle of the clearing, dark hair tumbling about her face, grey eyes wide open, staring at the sky. A green-fletched arrow was buried in her chest. Thranduil stared at the sight in disbelief for several seconds before he suddenly realized why Ellaurë looked so grim.
"That is an arrow belonging to one of our warriors," he gasped.
Rochendilwen sat trembling in her chamber, clutching the cup of hot spiced wine that her aunt had insisted on giving her. Her hands were shaking so hard that she was slopping quite a lot of the wine onto her tunic.
There was a gentle knock at the door, and the older elleth got up to answer it. She opened it a crack, and then opened it wider, admitting Thranduil.
"Mídhaer," the king said, inclining his head in greeting. "I would speak to you, if I may."
"Of course, hîr nîn."
"Outside," Thranduil said, but as the older Elves were about to leave the room Rochendilwen raised her head.
"No," she said softly. "Say what you must in my presence, my king… Saes. I must know the truth. I must know… what has happened."
Thranduil hesitated.
"None will deny you truth, penneth, if truth is what you seek. But are you ready for it so soon? Give yourself time; your answers will go nowhere."
"I must know," the younger Elf said, in a voice bordering on hysteria. "Please."
Thranduil sighed.
"You have no objection, Mídhaer?"
The elleth thus addressed shook her head.
"Very well then… Valadhiel – I am sorry, but there is no easy way to put this – Valadhiel has gone to Mandos' halls." He paused sympathetically when Rochendilwen, her last, desperate hope dashed, began to sob. Mídhaer put a hand on her niece's shoulder.
"What of my brother?" Rochendilwen whispered, shutting her eyes against the vision in her head… She had slipped out of the stronghold for a walk and had chanced upon the horrific sight of her mother, obviously mortally injured, lying on the ground with her older brother bending over her and Ellaurë, her mouth a grim line, standing nearby.
Thranduil came closer and placed a hand on Rochendilwen's head.
"This may be a shock, penneth."
She looked up in horror.
"Is he – has he – gone – to –"
"No," Thranduil said quietly. "Though it might have been better if he had. Rochendilwen… Bregolien killed your mother."
"No!" The elleth pushed away from both of them, throwing her head up to glare at the king. "How could you suggest – he would never – he could not –"
"Penneth, Ellaurë was there," Thranduil said gently. "She saw it all. Even Bregolien admits to having killed her – although he says it was an accident –"
"What do you mean he says it was an accident? Don't you believe him?"
"I do not believe or disbelieve. I am telling you what has passed. More cannot be said until the Council has met –"
"You are having my brother appear before the Council? But – but that is for criminals. Accidents have happened before, and those involved are not brought before the Council every time. You cannot accuse Bregolien of ill intent!"
"Penneth, I accuse nobody of anything. Elven blood has been spilt within sight of the stronghold, and I would be a poor king if I did not put this matter before the Council. Bregolien will have every opportunity to speak, I promise you, and so will any Elf of this realm who wishes to put forth an opinion."
Legolas groaned and buried his head under his pillow as the pounding on his door grew louder.
"Go away, Dan!" he shouted.
"It's not Dan," an aggrieved voice said from the other side of the door. "It's me."
"Go away, Ro!"
There was the sound of the door opening. Legolas opened one eye and looked at his friend.
"What is it? Can't you let an Elf get a decent night's sleep around here?"
Elrohir snorted.
"Your father was right; you should not have taken your oaths as a warrior so soon. You sound like Daeradar. Wake up, Legolas." He sat on the edge of the bed. "What happened to your sense of adventure?"
"I've had enough adventures to last me the next century."
"Fine," Elrohir said, pouting. "If you don't want to spend time with us any more just because you're a warrior and you have more interesting things to do –"
That worked, as Elrohir had known it would. Legolas sat up, protesting.
"Sîdh," Elrohir said lightly. "I was only joking. Now that you're awake, come. The forest looks much friendlier by moonlight. Dan has gone to the kitchens to get some food."
Legolas scowled at his friend, but he got out of bed. Elrohir handed him a light cloak to put on over his sleeping tunic, and then they both snuck out of the room and downstairs to the kitchens, where Elladan stood waiting with a covered wicker basket.
"At last!" he said. "I thought you'd never get here!"
"Blame the Elfling," Elrohir said, striding to the back door. "Greenwood's golden prince needs his beauty sleep."
"Not that one!" Elladan said as Legolas picked up the nearest large ladle and aimed for Elrohir. "It'll make too much noise. Use the wooden one next to it."
A short while later, the moon was shining down on three young ellyn sitting beneath an elm tree by the stream. They exchanged stories and laughter over a meal of cakes, apples, and wine watered just enough to avoid splitting headaches the following morning.
"So what is it like being a valiant warrior?" Elrohir asked, continuing their conversation of the afternoon.
"I wouldn't know yet. All I do now is go on patrols around the stronghold… Help Elflings whose boats overturn in the Forest River, defend the stable from monster pigeons, protect –"
"Wait," Elladan said. "This we have to know – what is this about monster pigeons?"
Legolas chuckled and began the tale. The Elves shifted closer together, so intent on the story that none of them noticed the approaching figure until it pointedly cleared its throat.
All three Elves jumped to their feet and turned.
"Lord… Lord Glorfindel," Legolas said, turning to his friends for help. He saw neither of them, because the twins had both placed themselves behind him.
"You are on your own, gwador nîn," Elladan said firmly. "This is entirely your doing."
"It was your idea! I was sleeping in my room and –"
"That's not the point. Glorfindel likes you better than us so if it's you he might not complain to Ada."
"But –"
"Quite right," Elrohir said. "So for the greater common good, Legolas, please take the blame and tell Glorfindel it was your fault."
"Glorfindel, as it happens, is not deaf," the older Elf observed wryly.
"Yes, so you know it was entirely Legolas' doing –"
"You were the one who woke me up!"
"But you came willingly! You're making it sound like I dragged you from your room kicking and screaming!"
Glorfindel chuckled.
"It may surprise you to learn that I did not come here to scold you."
The younger Elves turned to stare at him.
"You… you didn't?" Elladan said in a tone of such disbelief that Glorfindel laughed again.
"No, Elrondion, I did not. I came to ask if there was wine enough for a tired old warrior and tales to lighten his heart."
Elrohir brightened.
"Of course! Legolas was just telling us about how he valiantly protected Thorontur's horse from monster pigeons."
Legolas felt for his knives, realized that he did not have them, and tackled Elrohir instead.
"Once you've satisfied your honour, Legolas," Glorfindel said, "tell us the pigeon story. And I have been told by my Lord Elrond to instruct you in the art of shooting by sound rather than sight. This would be a good time to start."
Rochendilwen pulled her chair to the cell bars, sparing a scowl for the guards who had refused to open the door and let her go in to her brother.
"Bregolien?" she whispered. At once one of the shadows in a corner of the cell unfolded itself and leapt to the bars in a single, smooth motion. The elleth raised her lantern, trying to see the prisoner's face in its flickering half-light.
"I didn't mean to do it," the ellon said hoarsely. "I swear to you, I didn't. You must believe me! I – I was – I don't know how it happened; there were orcs in the forest and I had to come back to warn Thranduil. And then she came up behind me without warning; my bow was in my hand and she was running straight at me. I reacted without realizing who she was – " His voice broke. "Say you believe me, penneth. That will give me some courage to face what is yet to come."
"I believe you," Rochendilwen said softly. "Of course I believe you, how could I not? I know you; I know you would not cause wanton harm to anybody – and never to Nana. Nobody who knows you at all could believe this."
"They all do, though. Ellaurë was so far away, to her it must have looked as though it was deliberate – as though I meant to – but I didn't, I swear to you I didn't. If I'd known –"
"I know."
"Thranduil says I am to appear before the Council."
"I know. They will know you are innocent! I'll tell them you could never have done it – they know you. They cannot possibly convict you!"
"If they do..."
"Then I will prove them wrong," Rochendilwen said fiercely. "If it takes a thousand years, I will prove your innocence to all of Eryn Galen. I will not abandon you."
Arbellason galloped into the stronghold, threw the reins of his horse at the nearest ellon, and ran across the courtyard and into the palace. He barely stopped to return the greetings of the Elves he met on his way to the king's study.
His frantic knocking was answered by Istuion, who let him in and left, shutting the door as he went. Arbellason turned to Thranduil.
"What is it? I came as quickly as I could, as soon as I got your message. You said it was urgent –"
"Valadhiel is dead," Thranduil said without preamble. "And by Bregolien's hand."
"What!"
"Yes, I know. That was my initial reaction too."
"But..." Arbellason shook his head. "Bregolien will – he will never forgive himself. Nobody will be able to persuade him it was an accident, and if I know anything of him, he will be blaming himself for eternity... Perhaps we should take him off his patrol duties for a few weeks."
"I am considering taking him off his patrol duties permanently."
Arbellason stared.
"But you think – you cannot mean – he intended to kill her?"
Thranduil groaned and buried his head in his hands.
"You sound just like Rochendilwen. Yes, I do mean he intended to kill her. That is Ellaurë's considered opinion, and for that crime I am having him brought before the Council. But Rochendilwen defends him. Naturally, even I can hardly believe this, and I do not think she will be content with their verdict if it goes against him. I wish Lindariel were here! She would know how to deal with this."
Sindarin Translations
Elleth – Female Elf
Aran nîn – My King
Hîr nîn – My Lord
Saes – Please
Penneth – Young one
Daeradar – Grandfather
Sîdh – Peace
Ada – Dad/Daddy
Ellon – Male Elf
TBC. ;-)
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